Is This More Than You Bargained For?
by ElizaDoALot
Summary: When a figure from Sherlock's past is found murdered, Sherlock snaps up the chance to solve it. Joan becomes suspicious of his behaviour surrounding the case, and the strangeness of the connection he has with the daughter of the victim. Sherlock fights his past and his present to get to the killer - will he succeed or is this case more than he bargained for?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi guys. This may not be TWOH, and that is still ongoing, it's just that this is a side project of mine, so I can be constantly writing, and plus it allows me to delve into murder-mystery writing as well, which is something that I haven't really done in a while.**

 **IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters; all are owned by CBS and the Elementary writing team respectively. Any characters that are of my own design will be mentioned below.**

 **OCs: Emmi and Aria Stumph**

* * *

Joan quickly made it down the stairs into the lounge. She picked up her handbag, and had just made it to the door when...

"Watson!"

Letting her head fall to the wood of the door, Joan turned and walked down to the kitchen. "What?"

"We have our killer in custody."

"That's good. Was it Jack Farringdon, like we predicted?"

Her companion nodded; a triumphant smile plastered on his face. "Come on, we have to go down to the station, Captain Gregson is in need of our assistance."

"I can't. I have to be somewhere."

"Well it's certainly not a date, judging by your casual clothing." Sherlock gestured toward her running shoes.

Joan headed toward the fridge. "I'm meeting an old high school friend. There's a baseball game we're heading to."

"Ah, the nation's favourite pastime. I guess shooting something isn't highly revered as I thought." Sherlock briefly looked down at his phone. "Ah,"

Joan became concered. "What is it?"

"Mr Farringdon confessed. Captain Gregson has cut a deal of a reduced sentence if Mr Farringdon gave the name of those that helped him."

"That's good. Want to go down to the station any way?"

Sherlock looked at Joan in surprise.

"I can tell her that I can't make it. It's fine."

* * *

Arriving at the police station, Sherlock and Joan were met with a large group of high school students outside of the Captain's office.

"Joan, hi," Detective Bell caught the two in shocked confusion. "After a baseball game, there was a fight between the Frank Sinatra School of the Arts High School and Hillcrest High School in Queens. Few kids got hurt, and one caused damage to some cars with a baseball bat."

Joan huffed. "So much for that baseball game with Janey." She glanced over Detective Bell's shoulder. "Only one girl?"

"Huh?" Bell turned and also looked at the girl; she was curled up next to a young man, with a bloody lip and the forming of a black eye. "Yeah. She and some of her buddies tried to break up the fight, but they ended up getting involved. The captain is talking to the ones that started the fight."

The trio began their walk to the captain's office when the door was opened, and a large group of young men left it. "Joan, Sherlock. I guess you know what's happened."

"Yes, Detective Bell filled us in," Sherlock replied.

Captain Gregson pointed to the remaining cluster. "I want you four that stopped the fight to come in."

* * *

"We were heading home after band practice, and then we head all the shouting from outside the school gates," One of the four said.

"So-"

"Aria."

"So, Aria, what did you do?"

"We went over and tried to see what the problem was. Daniel Ford told us to leave, and then the fight started up again."

Captain Gregson noted this all down. "Now, Daniel Ford didn't tell us what the fight was about, can you tell us?"

Before Aria could answer, there was a knock at the office door. "Uh, sorry to interrupt, Captain, but there's been a 911 call out to a suspected home invasion."

* * *

The address in question was five doors away from the Brownstone.

Aria and her friends were allowed to leave, after Captain Gregson wanted to ask no further questions of them. Also, it gave Aria an advantage to receive a lift home, seeing as it was her address.

Sherlock and Joan entered the property, seeing the carnage that littered the floor. There was smashed glass, screwed-up balls of musical scores, even a kitchen knife was seen.

What they did not expect to see, however, was the body of Aria's mother.

"Watson, please go and inform Miss Stumph of her mother's murder." His voice was tense and filled with anger. Sherlock's fist was clenched tightly.

Joan could see Sherlock's odd behaviour, but didn't want to question her friend further. "I will."

Sherlock stood and stared at the body; he remembered how small Emmi was when they both attended university - still she was that girl from his accommodation halls. Emmi had filled out a since her pregnancy. It made her petite frame softer, more fragile. Nothing about her had changed, by the looks of her: she still had the long blonde hair; still had the little tan-coloured mole on her chin; still had the small rampant lion tattooed onto her right wrist.

The chilling cry of anguish from Aria enveloped Sherlock's ears. The noise surrounded them, and appeared to block out the other noises around him.

There was a brief breeze and a bump against Sherlock's body. It was Aria, clinging on to him for dear life.

Sherlock settled himself onto one knee, and let Aria's skinny arms smother his neck, and her tears to wet the crook of it. He wasn't aware of his movements, but Joan came back into the room, and found her friend cuddling a child in comfort.

Sherlock hadn't spoken since she was asked to leave the room, and, to her knowledge, he made not a sound.

There was a small noise, however, that caught Joan's ear.

Eight little words.

 _"It's going to be okay. I've got you."_


	2. Chapter 2

**IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters; all are owned by CBS and the Elementary writing team respectively. Any characters that are of my own design will be mentioned below.**

 **OCs: Pete Harrison, Quinn Hurley, and Joe Steinway**

* * *

Sherlock announced that Aria was to stay at the Brownstone until the correct family members were contacted.

She had gotten a small bag of clothes after the Crime Scene Investigators had declared that the room was available for use. Aria picked up some personal items, Sherlock could see: a photograph of herself and her mother, some CDs, and her laptop.

"Are you sure that you're okay to take the case, Sherlock?" Joan questioned him. "You didn't seem okay when we saw the body."

Sherlock sighed, rolling his neck. "I knew the victim."

"What?"

"Emmi and I were at university together. She studied English and Music, whilst I studied Chemistry."

"So... that little 'moment' in the living room...?"

"Merely a moment of compassion. I understand what it's like to lose someone close to you."

Aria placed her packed bag at her feet. "I'm ready." Her voice trembled; she wiped a stray tear away with the cuff of her sleeve.

* * *

The three arrived at the Brownstone to meet Aria's friends all sitting at the base of the door.

"What are you three doing here?"

The tallest of the group, Pete, spoke up. "Uh, waiting here for Aria."

"Shouldn't you all be getting home?"

"My mom's coming to pick me and Joe up in an hour, so." Quinn said.

"What about you?" Joan turned to Pete.

"My parents said it's best if I be with Aria - y'know, for support and stuff."

Joan gave a small smile. She admired Pete's nature and his obvious love for Aria: the way he hugged her close said it all.

She opened the door to the house. "I better put on some coffee."

* * *

Pete and Aria spent most of the night curled up together in the lounge. They sat watching Clyde climb over their conjoined legs.

"I got my room set up for you," Joan smiled.

"You didn't have to do that, but thank you, Miss Watson. I appreciate that." Aria moved away from Pete, picking up her bag.

Pete watched Aria leave the room; a look of compassion washed over his face.

Joan handed him a mug of hot coffee "How long have you known her?"

"Sophomore year. She was the new kid with amazing vocals: a powerhouse when it came to belting notes."

"Really?"

Pete nodded. "Yeah. When she performed with the band for the first time, I think she almost burst out the eardrums of the principal."

"Now _that_ is a powerhouse."

"Watson," Sherlock interrupted. "Might I have a word?"

Joan went over to Sherlock in the study, double-checking that they were both out of Pete's earshot. "What?"

"We need to start working on this case. It's imperative that we catch Emmi's killer soon before Aria or her friends become targets."

"Okay, but shouldn't we get some sleep? I mean you've lost a close friend, and Aria has just lost her mother."

"Yes, Watson, I am aware of this, but if we do not make any sort of start, we will let a killer roam free and give them the chance to kill again."

Joan was in no mind to argue with Sherlock, so she had settled herself in the armchair by the fire, watching Pete slowly fall asleep.

* * *

A loud screech came from Joan's room. It was Aria.

Pete was the first to run and comfort his friend, and Sherlock followed him.

"What happened?" He asked; concern was deeply laced in his voice.

"I had a nightmare," Aria whimpered into Pete's shoulder. "I saw my mum getting murdered, and then I got stabbed - then I woke up."

Pete rocked her and whispered something to her. "It's all over now. I'm here: I've got you." He continued his ministrations till Aria had calmed down considerably.

* * *

As Pete left the room, Sherlock stayed, watching Aria stretch and breathe deeply as she sat on her bed, cross-legged.

"I'm sorry that you had to see that." She quietly said.

"That is of no problem," Sherlock answered. "I have had Joan see me in moments of great relief and sadness, so there is nothing to be embarrassed about."

She shuffled closer to Sherlock. "Can you tell me about my mum? You've clearly seen a side of her I have never seen in my nearly eighteen years."

"One time - this was when we attended university - that your mother had stayed up for four days straight, and survived on nothing but five cups of coffee and three slices of toast."

Aria drew her face in order to stop herself from laughing loudly. "Three slices of toast and five cups of coffee? I did that once and lasted about a week - but then I was taken out of school due to my over-exhaustion,"

"Your grandfather would claim that I led your mother down a path of idiotic living habits and near-death food habits, but she was the one who led me down."

"You're kidding?!"

Sherlock shook his head.

Unbeknownst to them, Joan stood outside of the door and listened to their chatter. As their conversation continued, Joan made one deduction: there was something that Sherlock had clearly neglected to inform her of.

Sherlock was Aria's father.


	3. Chapter 3

**IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters; all are owned by CBS and the Elementary writing team respectively. Also the Stump-O-Matic guitar belongs to the Gretsch guitar company, and the song _This Is Gospel_ belongs to the band Panic! at the Disco. Any characters that are of my own design will be mentioned below.**

 **OCs: Aleczander Kingsley**

* * *

 _Sherlock was Aria's father_.

It was clear to see. The more Joan considered the notion, the more it made sense to her: they both had dark hair, both had slim figures, and both were just… well, there was something connecting them that Joan couldn't really place, but she knew that there was something else that was further connecting Aria and Sherlock.

Her thoughts troubled her as they both went through every scrap of paperwork that belonged to Emmi Stumph.

And her distracted nature did not go unnoticed.

"Watson, are you alright?" Sherlock bought her to ones side. "Is there something troubling you? You were... inattentive during our discussion with the captain."

"Yeah, sorry, I just got a lot on my mind right now," She answered.

Sherlock clearly didn't buy her poor excuse. "You never let personal matters addle you _this_ much. Something is not right, and I wish to help you; I can only do that if you allow me to have a share in your knowledge of what's bothering you."

Joan was about to reply, however Sherlock's buzzing phone disrupted their conversation. "Yes?... What?!... I will be there presently." Sherlock grabbed his coat. "Watson, to the Brownstone."

"Why?"

"My father has decided to make an appearance."

* * *

Morland Holmes was sitting by the fire, a pot of tea on the table next to him.

"I see that London decided to banish you from its high-rise circles." Sherlock remarked. "Or have you been outed of your position, and need protection from another assassination attempt?"

Morland rose. "I am not here for you, Sherlock. I am here for her."

"I trust that the dark powers that you regularly call upon have informed you of her presence here."

"No. Her grandfather informed me of her mother's death yesterday evening. I was informed by the NYPD that she was staying with you."

"I forgot to mention, father, her name is Aria." Sherlock stood his ground; Joan could see that Sherlock was showing off his protective nature to his father. "And Aria is staying with myself and Watson until Emmi's murderer has been captured. From there, she will be given to her mother's next of kin."

"You are quite right. And her grandparents have sent for her to be taken back to London."

"Who's been called to take me back to _where_ _now?_ " Aria asked. She seemed to have materialised from nowhere; however the light sheen of sweat covering her gave her previous actions away.

"Ah, you must be Aria Stumph." Morland offered his hand out to her. "I'm Morland Holmes."

"Who now?"

Morland hummed at the little joke. "I'm Sherlock's father. I have worked with your grandfather on a few occasions,"

"Oh! You're the tall spindly guy that I've been told about! Yeah, I have a vague idea of who you are." She took his hand to shake, still unaware of why Morland was present.

Sherlock interluded the growing silence and the apparent awkward atmosphere. "My father is here to take you back to London, on the order of your grandparents."

"Why would they want me back? They hate the fact that I exist. They outed my mum the second I was born."

"Their minds seem to have changed about that, clearly. Now, if you could pack, Miss Stumph, then we'll be off to the airport."

"I'm sorry Mr Holmes, but I'm staying here. I want to be here when my mother's killer has been bought to justice." Aria's voice was filled with determination. "And could you, if you can, inform my grandparents that I will be living and having a permanent residence in New York. And if they don't like it, they can stuff it."

Sherlock couldn't help but smile a little. "It seems like you have an answer. I'll hopefully not be seeing you in the near future."

"Aria!" Pete's voice rang out. "Your phone's going off!"

"If you'll excuse me." Aria quickly left.

"Listen to me, Sherlock, I will not be spoken to in that manner!" Morland's face blew up in ferocity. "I will not be disrespected by a brat like her; I can see that she is very much like you, and very much like that Emmi. I wonder if my suspicions are correct." He straightened his suit and fetched his coat from the rack. "I will have a presence in New York until this matter has been corrected." He left as swiftly as he arrived.

"Well," Joan said. "That went well."

* * *

They were currently travelling to _Favorite Record_ , a music store in Astoria. Aria made the decision to go along, claiming "It would be good for me to get out of the house. Fresh air does me good."

As they entered, the three of them were greeted by loud music and a grinning sales associate. "Hi, welcome to Favorite Record."

"Hey, Alecz," Aria said; she tried to sound perky, but she couldn't muster up the strength to do so.

"Aria, hi. I heard about your mother, I'm so sorry."

She didn't smile. "Is the piano still upstairs? I just want a few minutes alone with it."

"Sure, sure."

Sherlock stared at Alecz. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Aleczander Kingsley? I was a business major."

Sherlock remained silent.

"Uh, okay, I, uh, had a bit of a BO problem? Bad hair, bad skin? No-one would touch me with a ten-foot barge pole?"

"Ah, yes! Alecz!" Sherlock seemed surprised.

"Uh, can I sorta ask you guys why you're here? I mean, I have customers waiting," He gestured to the small line of people that were waiting behind Sherlock and Joan.

Whilst Alecz was putting all purchases through, the music playing in the store was drowned out by a slow melody from above.

" _This is gospel for the fallen ones,  
Locked away in permanent slumber.  
Assembling their philosophies  
From pieces of broken memories._

 _Their gnashing teeth and criminal tongues  
Conspire against the odds,  
_ _But they haven't seen the best of us yet..._

 _If you love me let me go!  
If you love me let me go!  
Cause these words are knives  
And often leave scars,  
The fear of falling apart.  
_ _And truth be told I never was yours!  
The fear, the fear of falling apart._"

Aria kept playing, the song overflowing with emotion. She paused briefly, only for some patrons to start clapping, bringing her attention away from the music. Her footsteps echoed as she reappeared downstairs; her eyes were wet and red, obviously she had been crying whilst she played.

Joan went down to her level, placing her hand affectionately on Aria's shoulder. "Wanna go?"

Aria nodded. She hid her face in a bid to not show that she had begun crying again.

"Sherlock, can you finish up here, and I'll take Aria home. I think this place has bought back some things."

"Of course." Sherlock let the both of them pass.

"Poor kid." Alecz muttered.

"What?"

"Poor kid," Alecz repeated. "To lose a parent a such an age, it's a shame."

"Yes, yes it is." Sherlock exhaled. "Myself and Miss Watson are here because we'd like to know of your whereabouts the yesterday evening. We're consultants working with the NYPD, and we are helping them with solving Emmi's murder."

"Oh, right, yeah, sure. Um, last night I was here for most of the day, and than at around seven I went out on a date with a guy."

"Is there anyone to prove that?"

"Uh, yeah," Alecz reached into his pockets and pulled out numerous receipts. "I have one for the bar we went to, one for the restaurant we visited, and... oh, and one for the hotel we stayed in."

"Uh-huh." Sherlock studied them intently. "Is there any chance these places have security?"

"I guess so - most places have security cameras."

"Not all of them." He took pictures of the receipts and handed them back to Alecz. Sherlock's phone buzzed madly in his pocket. "Watson."

"Aria wants to know if the guitar is still there. She forgot to ask Alecz."

"Oh. Is the guitar still here? Aria would like to know."

Alecz chuckled. "Oh yes, it's still here. Taken it off sale just to keep it out of anyone else's hands."

"Is she satisfied?"

"Yeah, she seems to have perked up a little bit. I'll see you back at the house."

Sherlock put his phone away. "What's so special about a guitar?"

Alecz reached up and pulled down a shiny black guitar with white stripes. "This is a Gretsch G5135CVT-PS Electromatic guitar, also known as a Stump-O-Matic. The lead of her favourite band uses this guitar - hell, it was made for him by Gretsch." He passed it on for Sherlock to hold. "She saw it and immediately wanted it. The guitar she uses now is pretty old, plus it's her eighteenth birthday, so me and her mother wanted to get her something that Aria had set her heart on."

"I guess she also went for it for the fact that it matches her name?"

Alecz chuckled again. "Yeah, she found it a little funny. I remember when she came across this band and the lead singer, man she wouldn't shut up about it."

"So you've known Aria and Emmi for a long time?" Sherlock asked.

"Yup. Like I mentioned earlier, I dated Emmi for a while, but this was coming towards the end of our third year, just before Aria was born."

"So your not her father, then?"

"Well, I kinda had my suspicions at first, seeing a we kinda had a one-night stand around the time Emmi found out that she was pregnant. I asked her a few times, but she kept telling me I wasn't. Next person I guessed was you,"

Sherlock was taken back by surprise at this.

"But I mean, really? Who's want you as a father?"

"Well," Sherlock's voice became cold. He gave Alecz back the guitar. "It was nice seeing you."

* * *

Later that evening, Sherlock caught Aria before she went to bed.

"Did your mother ever talk about your father?"

"Um, kinda. She always told me that he was the best possible person to be a father; he was kind, had a big heart, was a little bit of a softie - but he could be an arse too, she told me."

"Right. Thanks any way."

Aria stopped on her way up the stairs, "Sherlock,"

He paused. "Yes?"

"Why'd you ask?"

"No reason. Just wanting to know."

She nodded and headed the rest of the way upstairs.

* * *

"Watson, I've come to a conclusion."

Joan stopped eating her salad.

"It may come as a shock to both you, and to myself."

"What is it?" She hoped that he had come to the same conclusion that she had.

"I'm Aria's father."


	4. Chapter 4

**IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters; all are owned by CBS and the Elementary writing team respectively. Any characters that are of my own design will be mentioned below.**

 **OCs: Alice Digby**

* * *

 _"Watson, I've come to a conclusion."_

 _Joan stopped eating her salad._

 _"It may come as a shock to both you, and to myself."_

 _"What is it?" She hoped that he had come to the same conclusion that she had._

 _"I'm Aria's father."_

Joan stared at him, wide-eyed. "You're kidding?"

"No, I am not. And I think you've come to this as well. How long have you had your suspicions?"

"Two days."

" _Two days?!_ " Sherlock exclaimed. "You knew for two days?"

Joan came up on the defense of her actions: "Hey, if I knew you were going to react like this, I wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of waiting for you to figure it out."

"You could have told me! Asked me, questioned Aria! She'd eventually come to me asking. She's certainly not afraid of asking you to do anything!" He spat at her.

"Oh come on! Whilst you're off trying to find Emmi's killer you're neglecting the child she left behind. You could at least show some of that compassion I saw from you the night Emmi's body was found!"

Sherlock grit his teeth and set himself to work in the study, Joan was left in the kitchen.

* * *

During the night, Sherlock received a call from Captain Gregson: "That guy you saw yesterday, Aleczander Kingsley? We got him booked for a physical attack on some woman named Alice Digby. Can you come down?"

Joan and Sherlock remained silent as they travelled to the police station. The argument between the two left tension quite high in the Brownstone; Aria caught sight of Joan before they both left, and questioned her about it. "It was your - I mean: it was Sherlock just throwing a fit cause I knew something for longer than he did." Aria took the reply and went back to bed, however she was aware that the argument involved her.

Alecz was sitting in an interrogation room, Detective Bell sitting across from him.

"Why did you attack Miss Digby?"

Alecz sat, stony faced and non-responsive.

"Mr Kingsley, your silence doesn't help your case. Why did you attack Alice Digby?"

"You should be asking why she attacked me." Alecz said. "I was closing the shop: I was going to meet some guy at a bar. All of a sudden, I get hit in the back of the head. I tried fighting off whoever attacked me, then next thing I know I'm getting arrested and being charged with assault."

Sherlock spoke into the tannoy: "Is there any chance that we can have a word with Miss Digby at all?"

* * *

"Now, Alice, Mr Kingsley tells us that you attacked him, and framed him for it."

Alice's body shook. "I-I-I-I was walking home, then I get grabbed from behind." She burst into tears. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay, take your time."

She sniffled into a handkerchief. "I get grabbed from behind, so I tried to back this guy into the wall," She blew her nose. "He hit his head on something, so I was able to turn and get a look at his face: it was Alecz."

"Alecz?" Joan questoned. "Do you know him?"

"We used to date each other back in college, or university, whatever you want to call it."

"So why did Alecz attack you?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I mean, there's this group online, all these students from the Class of 1998. We chat on that, y'know: keep up to date with what's going on in our lives. When they all saw that Emmi had been killed, everyone said that it was Alecz who killed her."

Sherlock spoke up. "Why would it be Alecz who killed Emmi?"

"Well, I remember when she got pregnant, and Alecz would follow her around like a little lost puppy. They stopped being friends not long after it was found out that he wasn't the father."

"So he attacked you out of what? Saying that he is Miss Stumph's killer?" Detective Bell wondered.

"I guess so."

"Miss Digby, is there any chance you can show us this chat-room? We could use it as evidence against Mr Kingsley when he is appropriately charged."

Alice nodded and pulled out her phone. "You can have my computer, if you want, in case the screen is too small for you."

"No, no. The phone will be just fine."

* * *

Aria had been bought to the station later in the morning.

"In the time you've known him, was Mr Kingsley ever violent towards you or your mother?"

Aria shook her head. "I know he's not the happiest of drunk people. But he's never acted untoward to me or my mum."

"What's your relationship like with him?"

"I didn't meet him till me and my mum moved to New York. We lived with him for a bit before my mum got given the house."

"So your mum never bought the house?" Captain Gregson asked.

"No. One day she got a letter saying that a benefactor to her family had just up and bought the house. We never really questioned it. For a while I thought it was my dad trying to give me some sort of connection to him, but I knew that it was just happenstance that it should happen to us."

"So Alecz isn't your father?"

"No. I explained that to Mr Holmes yesterday. He always acted like he was my dad, though. He'd go with my mum to parent-teach nights, any gigs that me and my band did, anything really. I guess that, since we came back into his life, he wanted us to be a family."

Captain Gregson looked through the paperwork in front of him. "Would you be able to give us a swab?"

"Why?"

"Well, it's just so we can prove that he isn't your dad and hasn't got any motive to killing your mum."

"So you think he killed my mum?" She shouted.

"No, it's just so we have all evidence needed in order to make a case, if Alecz is proved to be your mother's killer."

Aria's brow furrowed. "This isn't police procedure. You have no right to do so."

"Well, all we need is your consent."

"No, you need parental consent, seeing as I'm not of age to consent myself."

Sherlock, once again, stood forward. "I'll be her parental consent."

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" Joan hissed in his ear.

"Sherlock, you're not my legal guardian or my father, so there's no way on God's bloody green Earth you can, in any way, be my form of parental consent."

Captain Gregson sighed. "Sherlock, you can't do anything. The kid said no, that's final." He left the interrogation room.

"But what she has said is not legally binding, therefore I can give the consent as her acting legal guardian."

"Did Emmi have a will? In that there could be some evidence of who Aria's guardian is."

* * *

Sure enough, after jumping through loop-holes, the three were one step closer to receiving a copy of Emmi's last will and testament. All they had to do now was to talk to Emmi's parents.

"Why have we got to do that?" Aria groaned.

"Because I don't think they'll be too happy to know that we've been rooting through your mother's things." Sherlock tapped the number into his phone. He passed it over to Aria.

"Nope."

"Why?"

"They hate the fact that I exist. And they hate you as well, it's been established."

Sherlock handed the phone over to Watson.

"Argh." Joan moaned. "Oh, hello, is that Mr Stumph? My name is Joan Watson. I'm a consultant with the New York Police Department ... Yes, to investigate your daughter's murder ... The police would like a photocopy of your daughter's will ... They believe that it has importance to the case itself ... No, I am not an associate of Mr Holmes ... Yes, Aria has been temporarily placed in my care until the appropriate legal guardian has been found for her until she turns eighteen ... Is there any chance for you to send the photocopy via email, sending it through the mail will take some time ... Thank you, Mr Stumph." Joan put the phone down. "There. Done."

"What's the will going to do again?"

"Two things: one provide us with proof that I'm your legal guardian, and bring any new information to the case."

Aria breathed out. "Whatever."

* * *

The email proved to be more than they thought: yes, the photocopy of Emmi's will was attached, but the message yielded some surprising news:

 _Aria, we are both very apologetic for disowning you from our family; your grandfather's pride ultimately got the better of him, and left him without any sort of heir to his workplace and family fortune. After having some strict words with him, he has let his stone heart be softened, and he would like to give you your rightful inheritance. I should count this as an eighteenth birthday gift from the both of us. It will be waiting for you in Great British Pounds until you have an open bank account available in New York._

 _Again, please accept our (or rather, your grandfather's) deepest apology for how you and your mother have been treated._

 _I do not know if this will be an acceptable apology for you, and I will not hold it against you for not accepting both the money or the apology from us._

 _With all the love I could never give you,_

 _Your Grandmother_

Aria sat in front of the computer, quite dumbfounded at the thought and sorrow that tumbled from the words on the screen. "I don't know what to say."

"See, they do have some care for you."

"Yeah, but that's my granny. Even though she lived under my grandfather's thumb, she had a soft side that she liked to show when no-one was around to see it." Aria beamed. "She bought me my first guitar, y'know?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. That rusty-stringed nightmare was the first guitar I ever played; a RG miKro Black Night Ibanez electric guitar. I've had that for coming on ten years now."

"What is it with musicians and what kind of instrument they have? All it is is a noise box with strings."

Joan scoffed. "Like your violin isn't a 'noise box with strings'."

"Yes, but a violin is an instrument that has an exact science to playing it. With guitars all you have to do is to pluck the strings in a manner for the ear-splitting sound to come out."

"All right Sherlock, I'll hold you to that. But I'll prove you wrong when you guys come to my band's show tomorrow."

* * *

 **A/N: Hi, me again. The guitar mentioned in this chapter belongs to the company Ibanez. This is the brand of guitar that my brother plays with, and I thought it would be nice to use him like that.**


	5. Chapter 5

**IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters; all are owned by CBS and the Elementary writing team respectively. Any characters that are of my own design will be mentioned below.**

* * *

Sherlock and Joan were one step closer to finding Emmi's murderer.

They had all the evidence that they (or Sherlock) thought necessary to the investigation: Emmi's will and testament; security footage from both the bar and hotel that Alecz vistied; both Emmi and Alecz's phone records from the past few months; and all the recorded messages from the university chatroom.

But something was missing. And it was something that Sherlock belived was staring them all in the face. "The tattoo."

"What?" Aria stopped eating her breakfast.

"The tattoo. The one your mother had."

"Yeah, so?"

Sherlock skimmed through the collection of photos from both Emmi and Alecz' social media accounts. "Alecz has one just like it."

"Yeah, he got it when he and my mum were drunk. They both got it at the same time, actually,"

"Why?"

"I dunno! As far as I'm aware, Mum got it to symbolise me: it's my star sign."

"What's all this shouting about?" Joan entered the study.

"My Mum had a tattoo on her wrist, and now Sherlock thinks that it's the answer to everything."

"That's because it is!" Sherlock exclaimed.

Aria picked up her breakfast and headed towards the kitchen. "Okay, I'll leave you to your mad theory. I've got to go and meet the others: we've gotta go through soundcheck and rehearse."

"Hey," Joan stopped her. "You're not going anywhere."

"Why not?"

"If you haven't noticed there's still a killer we have to catch."

"I know, but I don't really want to think about the person that killed my mother." Aria restarted her walk toward the kitchen.

* * *

Detective Bell informed them that Alecz had been released from police custody due to Alice Digby dropping all charges. "There's something else: someone from Scotland Yard got in contact a few hours ago. They said that they have a file of police reports that Alecz has been booked before for assault."

"He never got tried for any of them?" Joan quizzed.

"Nope, says here each case was either dropped or went cold due to a lack of evidence supplied by both the victims and Alecz."

"Huh,"

"Anyway, I thought I should let you guys know. I'm going to see if I can get Scotland Yard to make copies and send them over."

"Okay, thanks Marcus." Joan put the phone down. "Sherlock!"

"Kitchen!"

Joan found Sherlock in a midst of papers and photographs. "What's all this?"

"Everything from upstairs. I thought that I could glean something from this if it were in a different location."

"Was Alecz ever violent to you? Or to any of the other students?"

Sherlock paused. "What?"

"Marcus called and told me that Scotland Yard have different police reports of Alecz having assaulted other people. I just want to know if you were one of them."

"Myself and Alecz have had fights before, but I never reported him to the police."

"What was the fight about?"

* * *

 _Alecz had thrown Sherlock against the bar, his back hitting the wood of it hard, causing the air to be knocked out of him._

 _"Tell me it's not true! Tell me!" Alecz screamed._

 _"Tell you what? That me and Emmi are sleeping together? Grow up."_

 _Alecz grabbed Sherlock and yanked him up. "Listen to me you bastard: Emmi's pregnant, and it's not mine."_

 _"So you think that her baby is mine?"_

 _"What do you think?" Alecz punched Sherlock square in the jaw. "TELL ME!"_

 _"How should I know? We've only been together for a few weeks."_

 _"Yeah, the same few weeks that got her pregnant." Alecz hit him again. "Tell me! Tell me how that baby is yours!"_

 _Sherlock spat out a mouthful of blood towards Alecz. "I won't tell you, because I don't know, but I will tell you how Emmi loves having sex with me: oh, how she moans my name as I make her feel so good." He could see Alecz' temper rise. "God, the other day she almost tore the skin from my back; I've still got the red marks to prove it - you want me to show you?"_

 _Alecz screeched as he charged toward Sherlock, fists flying. Sherlock lent forward to take Alecz's oncoming attack, letting the larger boy punch, kick, and scream his way into beating Sherlock down._

 _As the boys wrestled, police officers arrived in order to tackle the disturbance that the two had created._

 _Emmi met them outside the student bar. She ignored Alecz completely, and went over to Sherlock, who was getting his cuts looked at by a medic. "You okay?" Alecz heard her ask. When he was arrested and put into a police car, he saw the two of them walk off down the road, no doubt to go back to Sherlock's flat._

 _And that was the last that Alecz had saw the two of them._

* * *

"Jeez." Joan said. "And that was all over Emmi?"

"Well, the parentage of Aria, but Emmi also had a place in that disagreement."

The computer blinked as an email was received. "Oh, that's gotta be those files from London."

As Joan printed them off, Sherlock had a realisation: "Where's Aria?"

"Hm? Oh, she, uh, left about an hour ago. Why?"

"I think we all know who killed Emmi. And I think we all know why."


	6. Chapter 6

**IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters; all are owned by CBS and the Elementary writing team respectively. Any characters that are of my own design will be mentioned below.**

 **OCs: Harriet Gordon, Hilary Collins, Mr and Mrs O'Hare, Mr James, Miss Knight, Miss Davidson, and Mr Farnham**

* * *

Aria opened the door to Alecz' shop. "Hey Alecz."

"Whatsup?" Alecz asked. He lent against the counter, looking eager.

"Not much. I'm just starting to feel like a prisoner in that place."

"Why?"

Aria shrugged and jumped to sit on the counter. "Dunno. I guess it's just me getting through those stages of acceptance,"

"We all deal with loss differently; just because you deal with it in a way than another person doesn't make you broken."

"Hm. Never thought about it like that."

"Never asked you before: what do you think of that Sherlock guy? Pretty weird, right?"

Aria thought about his question. "Uh, he's all right, actually. A bit mad, a little bit of an arse, but he's well-meaning. He's got a bit of a soft side to him, and I guess he's pretty good at what he does with Joan."

"Not mentioned anything about me, has he?"

"Nope. Well, he just some mad theory about your tattoo."

Alecz looked down at the mentioned tattoo: a golden lion that stood rampant against his olive skin. "What 'mad theory'?"

"He thinks that because the tattoo on my mum's wrist is a symbol for me, it's the answer to who killed her."

He went back into a standing position; Alecz' body language changed, also. "Jesus! Look at the time! I gotta close up!" He changed the subject, moving towards the shop door.

Aria's eyebrows furrowed. "Dude, what are you doing? The shop doesn't close for another hour."

Alecz locked the door regardless of Aria's correction. "Your band is turning up soon anyway, so I don't really want anybody coming in and interrupting your soundcheck."

"Yeah, but we're meeting at the bar. I only came here for some peace of mind."

"Oh ... yeah, I for-forg-got." Alecz stuttered

"Alecz, you okay?"

"Of course! I'm fine; fit as a fiddle, haha!"

Aria grabbed the small can of pepper-spray that resided in her pocket. "You're hiding something. No-one with something to hide is _that_ nervous."

"I'm not hiding anything. Why would I be hiding anything?"

* * *

Sherlock trawled through the security footage from Alecz' shop. "Here! At three-thirty: he's leaving."

"And?"

"Look here, Alecz doesn't come back until four-thirty-three." Sherlock looked at Joan. "What time did the coroner state that Emmi had died?"

Joan flicked through the case file. "Uh, four-fifteen."

"Amuse me, Watson: say Alecz visited Emmi to dicuss plans for Aria's birthday-"

"Which is today."

"They discuss Aria's birthday. Say they get onto the topic of telling her who her father is; now Alecz, despite being told numerous times, is still under the belief that _he_ is Aria's father. Emmi shuts him down, stating that he isn't. He gets angry, and starts to scare her by causing the mess we saw in the kitchen."

Joan pulls different crime scene photos. "Emmi defends herself against him, but her grabs her, stopping her. He starts asking her who Aria's father is, and then jumps to you, based on what he knows of your past relationship with her."

"She defends you, saying that you aren't the father."

"He grabs the kitchen knife and stabs her."

Sherlock reaches for the Scotland Yard police file. "Here: Restraining Order filed by Emelia Stumph against Aleczander Kingsley, dated January 17th 1998. Mr Kingsley is to keep a distance of no more than fifty feet away from Miss Stumph; any violation of this order will result in the immediate arrest and imprisonment."

"What about there? The vandalism charge."

"Reported valdalism of 23 Harcourt Place: broken window (front room), spray paint (message reads: whore), canine fecal matter on both doorstep and letterbox." Sherlock read. "Residents of both neighboring houses (Mr and Mrs O'Hare of 21 Harvourt Place; Mr James, Miss Knight, Miss Davidson, and Mr Farnham of 25 Harcourt Place) report that Aleczander Kingsley was seen to be present on the property of 23 Harcourt Place at seven forty-three in the evening on the night of March 26th 1998."

"Oh my god. I never thought that someone would be _this_ angry about not being someone's father." Joan pulled out a school letter and began to read:

 _Dear Mr and Mrs Kingsley,_

 _I am writing to you about Aleczander's recent behaviour regarding his attitude toward Harriet Gordon in the recent weeks._

 _It has been noted by his class teacher Mrs Thomas, and this is also inclusive of his other teachers, that he is showing violent and crude behaviour toward Harriet; this includes destruction of her personal belongings and delivering to her lude photos of himself, as well as targeting horrid remarks and projectiles in her general direction._

 _This behaviour is not tolerated here at St Luke's, as you are aware._

 _His current behaviour has led him to being taken to isolation within the school, also his person being moved to other classes where Harriet cannot be subject to his disregard for her psychological health. Aleczander has had regular meetings with our resident counselor to discuss his attitude and how he can see the effect it is having on Harriet's daily life here. Unfortunately, these meetings have taken no root in his mind: he still seeks Harriet out when she is either alone or with her friends and classmates to ridicule and cause her grief._

 _To my knowledge, Harriet is not the only target of Aleczander's untoward behaviour; from my colleagues, there have been other instances where Aleczander has been lude or cruel to other students - mainly female students._

 _I am deeply sorry that I have had to bring this news to your attention, but this cannot go on any longer: I have no other option but to expel Aleczander from St Luke's School._

 _If you wish to meet with me to take further action, or to plead your son's case, then feel free to make an appointment to meet me, where we can further discuss Aleczander's behaviour._

 _Kindest regards,_

 _Hilary Collins  
Headteacher_

 _"_ Holy crap." Joan said.

"There are other letters from four different schools about Alecz; do you wish to read them?"

"No," Joan put the letter down. "I'd rather not. I get the picture."

Sherlock stood up, straightening his blazer. "Well then Watson: I do believe we have enough to convict Alecz of Emmi's murder."

"No we don't."

"What?"

"We don't have enough. We still need physical evidence, like DNA."

"Well," Sherlock grabbed his coat. "We need to make a stop to the precinct then, won't we?"

* * *

Alecz had Aria gagged and handcuffed. He held a gun in his hand, and was wilding gesticulating. "I was always meant to be your father."

Aria grunted: a symbol for 'really?'

"I mean, sure me and you mum had our hiccups and rocky parts of our relationship, but we still were together."

Aria's voice was muffled through the gag.

"C'mon, I mean who'd want that freakazoid for a father?" Alecz manically laughed. "I know you'd want him as your father, I mean you and him are exactly alike! No wonder everyone thinks that the both of you are related!"

Aria rolled her eyes out of disbelief. Alecz removed the gag. "Thank you. Now, if you'd let me get some sense into that brain of yours, I'll tell you that my mum hated you! She only hung about with you because she thought that you had somehow changed from your perverted persona from way back when."

"She told you that?"

"Yeah. When ever you made some sort of move on her, she'd always tell me how much she _hates_ you."

Alecz stared at her in disbelief. "What?"

"Mhm. Dude, you had no chance in hell with her. Why do you think she was so relieved when she got the house? She was getting the both of us away from you."

Alecz covered his ears. "Shut up."

"She always made sure that she picked me up whenever I spent time with you: she was scared that you'd trash the house or come in and assault her! Why would anyone want _you_ as a father if you've somehow scared the mother of your child? Seriously, Alecz, give up this poisonous dream!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!"

* * *

Sherlock and Joan were riding in the back of a police car as themselves, Detective Bell, and some members of a SWAT team. They found other details from the Medical Examiner's report saying that trace amounts of Alecz's DNA had been found on the knife handle, as well as Emmi's wrists and arm.

"We've got the CCTV foottage as well as other documents to prove that Alecz had motive to kill Emmi." Captain Gregson said.

"We don't have everything, in my opinion, but I can find the other piece of evidence needed to make the appropriate case against Alecz."

"What do you mean we _don't_ have everything?!" Joan shouted.

"All in good time, Watson."

* * *

Alecz had beaten Aria; he had completed his second beating by throwing one last punch to her gut.

Aria had already received a new black-eye over her already blackened eye, a bloody nose, and had several hits to her abdomen and ribs. She wouldn't let Alecz hiting her stop her from always getting back up and trying to fight him off whilst goading him. "You call that a punch? I've had worse." She pushed herself up again. "I could do this all day."

Alecz screeched as he aimed another blow to her face, but he was stopped by Sherlock's forceful hand. "Leave her alone." Sherlock threw Alecz' arm back, causing the other man to wobble.

"Oh! Look who's here Aria! Daddy's here to save you!"

"Crawl into a hole and die!" Aria spat back.

Sherlock placed himself between Alecz and Aria. "Look, Alecz, I can understand why you're angry: you've been reject by the woman you loved, she's shut you down about something you have the right to know."

Alecz paused, seemingly caught in a trance by Sherlock's words. "What?"

"I was able to get a copy of Emmi's will," Sherlock pulled out a folded piece of paper from his coat. "I read it: it says that you're Aria's father."

"What?" Alecz breathed.

"WHAT!? That nut-job can't be my dad!" Aria argued.

Sherlock glared at her, as if telling her something.

Alecz greedily snatched the paper from Sherlock's hands. He almost tore it as he drank in the words on it; his mouth followed along the swirled type-font: "In the event of my death, I call upon Aleczander Kingsley, the father of my living heir Aria Charlotte Rosaline Stump, to be her legal guardian until she reaches the legal age of 18." He stops reading to stare at Sherlock... He utters one word: "Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"Bullshit. There's no way that she'd write this. She hated me, if I remember correctly, yeah Aria?"

"Bollocks." Both Sherlock and Aria groan.

Alecz poised the gun at Sherlock. "Get out of the way."

"Why should I?"

"Sherlock. Get out of the way!" Alecz growled.

"Tell me why I should."

Alecz' hand shook as he pulled the hammer of the gun back. His face was screwed in concentration, and there were tears in his eyes. "Sherlock, please move."

Sherlock remained stoic, his face an example of cool collectiveness.

Alecz let him arm fall. "All right. You win." He let the gun fall to the floor.

"Now, if you come with me, I can take you to the police, you will place you under arrest." Sherlock approached Alecz, only for him to elbow Sherlock's gut and shove him to the floor.

"DAD!" Aria cried as she watched Sherlock stumble to the floor.

Alecz unleashed a rage onto Sherlock, beating him to a bloody pulp. "You took her away from me! You took her away from me, so I took her away from you."

Aria roared as she body-slammed Alecz, yanking him off Sherlock; she repeated his actions, beating him up: "DON'T YOU TOUCH MY DAD!" She continued her assualt. "YOU KILLED MY MUM! YOU KILLED THE ONLY FAMILY I HAVE!"

As Alecz grew unrecogniseable, Sherlock softly teased Aria away, watching her flailing limbs slow and then eventually stop. "I think you've made your point."

She stopped, and saw what she had done in her fit of rage. Letting her breathing slow, Aria slowly let emotion overwhelm her, and allowed her unshed tears to fall hard and fast.

Sherlock cradled her as she continued to cry into his jacket.

"I-I-I m-m-m-miss my-my-my mu-mu-mum." She sobbed.

Sherlock shushed her. "I know, I know." He did not stop his actions until she had considerably calmed down. "I miss her too."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Very much in the spirit of most episodes of Elementary, I want to end on a light-hearted note. I wonder if you guys find out who Aria's father _really_ is.**

 **IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters; all are owned by CBS and the Elementary writing team respectively. The song _Wishing You Where Somehow Here Again_ belongs to the creator Andrew Lloyd Webber. Any characters that are of my own design will be mentioned below.**

* * *

 _"I miss her too."_

Sherlock and Aria were being treated by medics; both their injuries were not serious, although the two gained fifteen stitches between them. Joan sat by both of them, double checking over their treatments

Captain Gregson approached Sherlock as a bloody Aleczander Kingsley was bought out of the shop. "I should charge Aria with assault, but seeing as it was out of protection of someone's life, I'll let that slide."

"That's not police procedure," Aria wheezed out a small laugh.

Captain Gregson ruffled Aria's hair. "I know kid, I know."

"Is there any chance that I could have a word with Alecz when he gets taken back to the station?"

"He'll be cleaned up and then out into interrogation one last time before we book him for good. We wanna get all that dirty laundry out."

* * *

And, truth be told, Captain Gregson was correct: there was 'dirty laundry' to get out.

Sherlock advised the Captain and Detective Bell that it would better suit Aria's need for closure to conduct the interrogation herself, rather than have the police do it. The Captain did try to argue against such an action, Joan and Detective Bell, however, agreed with Sherlock.

Aria was sat opposite to Alecz; she has said nothing to him when she entered the room: Aria sat and stared at him, hoping to glean something from saying nothing.

"Are you going to say something?" Alecz asked.

"Yeah: why did you murder my mother?"

"I'm not going to answer that."

"We've got enough evidence and proof to show that you are responsible _and_ have motive to kill her. So just tell me why, so I know that you're being put away for the right reason."

Alecz smiled; his once bloody lip was now open, causing a small trickle to dribble onto his chin. "Why should I tell you any of this?"

"The police are on the other side of that glass: they can hear and see everything that's going on in here. Sherlock was able to swing it so I can interrogate you."

"Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock. What's so special about him? He's just some weird guy your mother knew. He's not your father."

"Well he's the best fatherly figure I've had my entire life."

Alecz leaned foward. "What about me?"

"You? You're a skeezy dude that my mum sought out for help! She could've looked for Sherlock, but didn't. It's lucky she found you: we'd probably be dead by now if it wasn't for you!"

"See! I'm not all bad!"

"You're bad enough to have five expelliations from different schools, seven restraining orders, and a community service sentence for vandalism. Jeez dude," She was unimpressed. "I thought you were a pretty up-standing guy!"

"Listen to me you little creatin!"

"Look, it's 'creetin' - if you're going to threaten me, you might as well do it properly."

Alecz grabbed Aria by the front of her shirt. "Listen: I killed your mother because she denied me the basic want of a family. She took you away from me, and she was still doing it right in front of me! Constantly showing me that you weren't mine! Getting that _stupid_ guitar for you was the only way of having any sort of connection with you, because you're my daughter! What kind of father is never allowed to see _his_ daughter?"

"A crap one." Aria replied coolly.

There was a knock at the window: they had gotten the confession. Detective Bell and another officer in the precinct entered the interrogation room, and placed Alecz in handcuffs. "Alecz Kingsley, I'm arresting you for the murder of Emelia Stumph, and the physical assaults against Aria Stumph and Alice Digby. You have the right to remain silent; anything you say will be used against you as evidence in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney; if you cannot find one, one will be give to you by the state."

As he was led out, Aria stopped him: "By the way, if Sherlock _was_ my dad, I'd be pretty happy to have him over you any day."

* * *

The band has set up in The Quays Pub; more than half of the music department were present, as were most (if not all) of Emmi's piano students and their families. Captain Gregson and Detective Bell were asked to join in by Joan, seeing as they were part of the investigation.

Sherlock was stopped by Pete as the band were about to perform. "Have you seen Aria about?"

"Not since we had left the police station. Why? Is she not present?"

"No-one's seen her at all." Pete bought out his phone. "I'll try calling her."

Sherlock stopped him. "No, no, don't. I think she wants to be alone right now, given the circumstances."

"Yeah, but we turned our first show into a memorial service for Miss Stumph. We all want to give her a send off in the only way we know."

Sherlock smiled. "That's thoughtful of you, but I do think that you all should perform without Aria."

"Why?"

"Everyone has their own ways of commemorating those who we've lost. I turned to drugs." Sherlock replied nonchalantly, as if his answer would not cause Pete to step away from him. "Aria will use something to take away her pain, whether it be drugs, music, anything." His phone vibrated in his pocket - it was a text from Aria: _7202 Astoria Boulevard_. "If you will excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

* * *

Sherlock arrived at St Michael's Cemetery, the Stump-O-Matic guitar in hand (he may or may not have broken into Alecz' former music store to take the guitar - he did leave the appropriate funds on the counter). He used the light from his phone to find his way around, hoping not to trip over any graves or dead bodies.

" _You were once my one companion,  
You were all that mattered.  
You were once a friend and mother,  
Then my world was shattered._"

He heard the haunting tune as he travelled further into the cemetery. "Aria?" He called out, hoping to get an answer. As Sherlock got deeper, the song became louder:

 _"Wishing you were somehow here again,  
_ _Wishing you were somehow near.  
Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed,  
Somehow you would be here!_

 _Wishing I could here your voice again,  
Knowing that I never would.  
Dreaming of you won't help me to do  
All that you dreamed I could!"_

Sherlock came across Aria sitting at fresh grave, the black marble headstone reading as:

 _Emelia Georgiana Sophia Stumph  
b. 14th September 1978  
d. 26th April 2016  
Beloved Mother and Daughter_

 _"Passing bells and sculpted angels:  
Cold and monumental,  
Seem for you the wrong companions;  
You were warm and gentle."_

Aria began to sob softly, however she inhaled sharply and wiped the tears away from her eyes, trying to appear stronger in the presence of her mother's grave. She rose up, and bought her hands into small fists, her knuckles becoming white.

" _Too many years fighting back tears!  
Why can't the past just die!?  
Wishing you were somehow here again!  
Knowing we must say 'goodbye'!  
Try to forgive,  
Teach me to live!  
Give me the strength to try!_

 _No more memories, No more silent tears,  
No more gazing across the wasted years..._

 _Help me say 'goodbye'...  
Help me say 'goodbye'..." _

Aria drooped against the headstone, the tears streaming down her red cheeks and her breathing ragged. Taking a gulp of air, she broke down into tears. "I'm sorry mum, I really am. I may have been a bit of a pain in the arse, but you know I never really meant to be like that. I shouldn't have shouted at you when I left for band practice that day, and now I feel like, now that you're gone, you've died thinking that I hate you. It's not like that! I love you with every part of my being, and I want you to know that because... well, because you're my mum, and you've been the only family that I've ever had. Please understand that, please mum. I don't want to live the rest of my life knowing that my last memory of you is you shouting at me!"

"She loved you." Sherlock said.

Aria jumped, frightened by Sherlock's voice in the empty graveyard.

"I know that your mother's not here to say it, but she really loved you. And still loves you."

"But how would you know that? I never knew who you were until my mum died."

Sherlock offered out his hand for her to take. "I've got a better place where we can talk about your mum."

* * *

Sherlock had bought Aria to Alecz' music store. They were sitting in the music studio, next to the grand piano. "I've got this for you." He handed her the guitar. "Your mum wanted you to have it. She wanted you to have an instrument that meant something to you."

"How the hell do you know that?" Aria tried to sound unbelieving, but she couldn't stop the smile from breaking her resolve as she began to fiddle with the guitars various knobs and switches.

Sherlock took an envelope out of his coat pocket. "When your mother's body was found, there was this open letter on the table. It's addressed to you."

"What's it say?" Aria took the letter off of Sherlock, and began to read:

 _My sweet little Aria,_

 _By the time you read this, you'll be eighteen years old. I can't believe how big you've gotten already! Like most parents, much to your disgust, I want you to be my little baby forever, but I know that that isn't really the best way to think._

 _Currently, you're being cuddled by your father; as much as he likes to think that you take after me, there are parts of him in you. You've got his hair, his ears, and I think his chin (he doesn't really believe me). He hopes that you've got my musical talent and my looks (which, bar the hair, ears, and possible chin, he's right), but he has his fingers crossed that you don't have his smarts (he doesn't want you to be bullied). He's a lovely, lovely guy, your dad. He lives with me and some of the others here in Oxford._

 _Did you know that he wanted to name you Viola, after a member of the Strings section in an orchestra? Viola Stumph doesn't have that much of a nice ring to it, does it? Aria suits you better, anyway._

 _I don't know what's going to become of us, as a little family. My parents (read as your grandfather) wants me to give you up, so I can focus on my career, and your father's father wants you to take your paternal last name, or at least for me and your father to be married. I'm not going to give you up, that's for sure, but marriage? Meh, I'll see how I feel._

The handwriting had changed; the script had become a little messy, but it was a nice change to see from the swirls from Emmi's handwriting.

 _Your mother has finally gone to sleep, and you've been taken down to the nursery for the night. I tried to get the nurses to not take you down, but I didn't really want to fight them._

 _Your mum was right, I didn't really know till I got a call saying my girlfriend had gone into labor. I came in on the obstetrician's first order to push, so I was able to be your mother's support for the next forty minutes. Y'know how most dads say 'oh your mother nearly broke my hand!' and laugh it off like it was no big deal? Well your mum actually broke my hand. On the last few pushes, I was getting my hand in a cast and trying to to get my other hand broken._

 _I'm going to marry your mum, trust me. Not because my father order us to, but because I love your mother more than anything (well, I love you more than anything as well). I'm going to have to find a ring or something, because I doubt that my father would give me something of your grandmother's jewellery._

 _I hope to see you before I have to go back to class, because I want to show you off to everyone, if they haven't already heard about you._

 _Don't forget, whatever happens to our little family, that I love you so very much._

Aria sniffed, tracing the messy letters with her finger. Some tears blotted the page, smudging her father's name that was signed at the bottom. "Thanks for this." She hugged Sherlock close. "I think mum would be happy, y'know? I finally know who my dad is."

"Are you going to let him be in your life?" Sherlock tried to hide his wide grin.

"Maybe," She smiled. "If he's willing to let me into his life."

He changed the subject. "Where are you going to stay? Back in your house, or are you going back to London?"

"I'm going to stay here. I'll talk with my grandparents, and see if we can work something out. I won't go back to that house, though. It needs to be sold, I don't want to live in a house with bad vibes and bad memories."

"Would you like to remain at the Brownstone? I don't think that Watson will mind."

"Can I stay till I've found my own place? I'm probably going to live with Pete and the others anyway."

"Of course. Stay as long as you want." Sherlock turned to face the piano keys. He let his fingers glide along the smooth surfaces until an idea popped into his head. He softly began to play the opening bars from the song that Aria had sung the other day. "How does it go again?"

Aria grinned as she turned toward the keys, much like Sherlock had, and began to sing.

* * *

Joan didn't see them both till much later in the evening.

She found them both cuddled up on the sofa in the living room of the Brownstone, a tray of tea and toast lying stone cold before them.

Softly chuckling, she quickly snapped a picture of the two, and laid the nearby blanket around them, watching the two snuggle further into each other. Joan couldn't help but see the content smile that was plastered on Sherlock's face, and swore that she saw him gently place a kiss on Aria's forehead.

Heading off to bed, Joan saw a note taped to her door: _We both know what has happened, and I hope you can accommodate the change our situation._

Joan smiled as she removed the note, and closed her bedroom door.


End file.
